I’m way behind in blogging, I realize. I have a lot to say about the Florovsky Symposium as well as my trip to Holy Cross, plus there some other cool things going on I need to talk about, etc. but it’s probably going to have to wait until after my visit to Emmaus.

11 years ago today, Megan and I got married. I must say it was the best stroke of good fortune I’ve ever had; I married the most awesome person I know. Brains, looks, character, portability — she’s got it all. (Maybe not so lucky for her, but I guess that’s how it goes when the man marries up.) The full run-down of the day must wait for another time, but the four things everybody seems to remember are 1) me being a wet drippy faucet as Megan came down the aisle, 2) my father-in-law’s Vito Corleone impression during his toast (the sole reason I wish we had we had had a videographer, at least for the reception), 3) the magic show put on by our dear friend Bill Darkow (aka “The Amazing William”) as a distraction while our caterer* was being good-cop/bad-cop-ed by the dads for being unapologetically two hours late, and 4) the priest saying during his homily, “They’re getting married, and they don’t know what it means.”

Well, eleven years later with, at long last, our first child on the way, I think we still don’t know what it means, really. Neither of us are really the same people who stood in St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church on 24 February 2001 and said “I do”. And you know what? Thank God, on both counts. That means that we’re not prone to the problem of familiarity breeding contempt. God forbid we ever think of ourselves as “done”, or else we most certainly will be in short order.

Love you most, Cadt!

(* Lyle Finley d/b/a Ritz Catering, and perhaps these days as Lyle’s Catering Company; in any event, based on our experience, I not only cannot recommend him, I must actively evangelize against doing business with him, but I’ll tell the whole story another time.)